And the Heavens shall Tremble
by fantasy elf queen
Summary: In the beginning what if it had been Castiel to fall instead of Lucifer? The story of the King of Hell and his legions against heaven. But the stakes are not equal, four archangels are dead and their swords stolen. But what will happen to Castiel's servant, the one that fell for him and gave up his all to be with the one he loved?M for a second chapter if you guys want one


Quiet footfalls echoed throughout the vast cavern walls. There was a reluctant ring to their hesitant steps that was of the same rhythm of the sluggish drops of rain water that dropped to the cavern floor. A reluctant sigh was emitted; a sigh filled with regret, misery, and the longing for something that the owner of the noise couldn't have.

"Ahhhhh, I hear you're reluctance in the very air you breathe. Come forward my little proselyte."

A tall, yet hunched figure slid forward to stand in the golden beam of filtering light cascading from above. The man was of exceptional and ethereal beauty. He had strong lines, a long, square jaw and a long, straight nose. But set against the masculine mold was a pair of feminine, glistening, emerald eyes with starbursts of liquid, molten gold bleeding out from the pupil. Cascading hair the color of spun sunlight was held back by a heavy crown that rested upon the brow of its wearer.

The crown was of a curious nature. The circlet had been crafted by Heaven's Morning Sun to be worn at the coming of the sunset of the world. The crown was forged from obsidian stone that was wrought in a heavy band with three upward spikes and two downward that rested against the man's temples. Strands of spun diamonds hung from the crown connected at the two downward spikes and cascading below his ears to connect behind them. The obsidian stone glowed a fiery orange from the sun and the reflection of the deep pitted flames behind his master's throne.

The wearer of the crown wore a long crimson robe over which was worn a black belt cinched tight by three silver buckles. A full black cape was thrown over his shoulders and draped around his form and dragged on the ground behind him dramatically. The man bowed deeply, sweeping his cloak behind him smoothly with a flick of his arm.

"Master."

"Famulus, what news of our brothers today?"

Famulus ducked his head in shame.

"My Lord, Michael enclosed on our ranks, we're losing soldiers."

The shadowed figure that sat upon his twisted metal throne slid like oil from the raised dais to his feet. Ominous thunder rumbled in the distance as the figure stepped down from his stairs and ducked down into the beam of light that Famulus stood under.

A looming figure, taller than any mortal man, taller than his loyal servants or the armies of heaven, taller than the other archangels stooped low to seethe in Famulus's face. Long ebony hair rested under the frame of molten glowing stone that formed the wearer's own twisted crown that sat heavy against his brow. It emitted the florid, pulsating, throbbing, garnet glow of a smoldering ember in a fire.

The wearer's face was deathly pale, the washed out white of a long dead corpse. Set against the shocking opposites of flesh and hair was a set of wide sapphire eyes that glowed with an empyrean light. Yet around his eyes were deep purple, black bruises that on any mortal would never have been thought natural. Silver and onyx robes cascaded from his shoulders to stretch out behind his form and swoop around him in an eerie and foreboding manner.

A corpse white hand reached out from the deep, endless folds of fabric to gently caress Famulus's hair and jaw. The figure cooed with an oily, slithering, hiss.

"Ohhhhh, Famulus, you have not made me happy."

Famulus cringed but did not pull away from his master's caress.

"But we'll have more of that later, for now; I believe it is time, that I faced my brothers in this inevitable and final battle."

Famulus quavered as he gazed into his master's eyes.

"Do we gather your army master?"

Ghostly pale lips trailed up a throat as golden hair was cradled in a corpse's grasp. A warm breath trails over a servant's skin as his master sighs out barely audible words.

"Oh my little Famulus, we gather _our _army."

~oOo~

The legions of hell stood in an eerie, stony silence. Their master faced the setting sun clothed in silver and onyx armor. A silver, white cloak that sparkled and glistened like dew in the morning and the under layer the same shining, sapphire blue as his eyes swayed lazily in the breeze. He stood proudly; gauntlet clad hands clasped firmly behind his back and lips pressed firmly into a thin smile.

Famulus stood behind him with downcast eyes and stooped shoulders. He wore the same black armor as his master and a cape of shimmering, wine red.

The master stood proud, the throbbing light of his crown casting his face in exaggerated light and shadow; two sapphire eyes stared out from the purple bruised flesh around them. Famulus's own crown reflected the fiery light of the setting sun.

The pearly gates of heaven were bathed in a luminescent glow as they swung outward and the army of heaven appeared on the horizon. One figure seemed to glide forward in a forceful stride. Long, golden, white hair was held back from a strong face by a thin circlet band of gold that sat low on his brow. He wore the white, belted, sleeveless robes of heaven; a thick band of gold lining the neck, waist and shoulders. Two great golden wings were stretched out at a wingspan of thirty feet.

He stepped out through the gates.

"Why have you come here?"

"Am I not welcome in our father's home?"

Sunlit gold eyes met shadowed blue.

"Not after what you have done. How dare you show your face here?"

"Do not feed me the lies that heaven is home to the Holy and good. Your little minions and pets are corrupt; my army is the same as yours."

The golden haired angel bared his teeth in a snarl.

"The army of heaven and _your _damned legions of hell are nothing alike. Your very soul is twisted into madness. The travesties and sins committed in your name can never be forgiven."

"I need forgiveness for nothing, it is heaven that should fall to their knees and beg for MY forgiveness."

Golden eyes darkened to amber.

"Castiel, do not force my hand in this, I beg of you."

Castiel screamed as his crown flashed with molten light.

"Do not call me by that name!"

"Why, does it remind you of what you once were, of the wings and grace stripped from you?"

"I am the Evening Star and I am called by no other name!"

"Wrong brother, you _were _the Evening Star; you were stripped of our father's title when you crawled into hell."

Two long, gleaming swords shimmered into Castiel's fists. Michael's now amber eyes deepened in sadness.

"You think because you slew Selaphiel and Jegudiel, that you have their swords, you think that will make you win against the armies of heaven?

Castiel glanced over his shoulder with a beckoning leer. Famulus stepped from behind his master's shadow as he pulled two flaming swords from the air. White flames licked along the blades and up Famulus's bare arms.

Michael's face contorted with grief.

"Raguel….and Uriel…oh in our father's name how could you, how could you?"

Castiel smirked. "Father isn't home, time to play brother."

Michael bowed his head with an agonized gleam in his eyes when a strong figure stormed through the gates. Shining auburn hair was clasped under the same circlet as Michael. He wore an identical robe; two great golden, red wings stretched out from his shoulder blades. His amber eyes flashed with Grace as he snarled.

"Murderers, blaspheming scum!"

Castiel smiled. "Hello Gabriel."

Gabriel grimaced as he drew his sword and lightning crackled along the cloudbanks. Michael gave a solemn, silent prayer to his father.

"So you have made your decision then brother?"

Castiel cast Michael a contemptuous glance.

"I made my decision millennia ago when father _left us_. "

Gabriel eyed the swords of his fallen brethren.

"You deserve the name of nothing, _**Satan**_." He hissed.

This gave Castiel pause as he gazed at his brothers.

"You call me antichrist and Prince of Darkness." He tilted his head to the side and gave a smile, a terrifying image of the angel from millennia before. "How cute."

Michael drew his sword and held it towards the sky. Black clouds gathered and thunder rumbled as static gathered in the air. Wind began to funnel and Michael's eyes shined with Holy light. A flash of pure, white, blue, and a crack resounded throughout the heavens as a bolt of lightning struck from the sky to connect with Michael's sword. Electricity zapped and crackled down his arm and his wings rose to lift the archangel into the air.

The setting sun sinking behind heaven's gates gave one last brilliant glow of light as the armies of heaven surged forward.

Castiel clashed his stolen swords together as his eyes flashed and he bared his teeth. The black armored legions of hell roared as they charged the pearly gates.

And so the great battle would begin. Two armies destined to clash but neither knew who would win. Heaven's armies led by Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, three archangels, more than enough power to destroy or defend all of earth. But the legions of hell had gained substantial power with four archangels dead and their power's stolen by Castiel and Famulus. The legions of hell had all been angels…long ago, now fallen angels, stripped of their wings and God's almighty power, nothing more than a pack of wolves, demons they were now called on earth.

But heaven was outnumbered, both in sheer numbers and in the ranks of the now divided powers of the seven archangels.

But for now the story focuses on the one called Famulus. Like many of the others Famulus had fallen at the beginning of time with thousands upon thousands of others. However Famulus's story goes a little differently than the others.

Famulus wasn't an archangel, but rather cherubim, the second highest ranking in God's army. Bringer of knowledge and light; and out of all, Famulus was the most beloved; a being of so much love and glory and with the rare nature of a warrior. But maybe that was Famulus's downfall, he loved too much. Castiel was Famulus's idol, God's second in command, the Evening Star, bringer of hope and light to all of creation.

Famulus loved God, his father and creator, but God had left Heaven and his children alone to fend for themselves. No one had known of Castiel's plans, of his jealousy for God and his lust for power. The first sin was not in the garden, but in heaven, and it was pride.

Famulus worshipped Castiel, his light, this being of such magnitude and magnificence that showered him with such affection and attention. Castiel fell because of Pride. Famulus fell because of love. And Famulus had loved Castiel, so much that he fell for him, willingly ripped off his own wings to join his master in damnation. He let Castiel twist him, mold him and squeeze the light out of every crevice, let him snuff out the good and right. He loved him so much he murdered and destroyed and crawled into the depths of hell to be with him.

He turned his back against his family, against heaven, against God; he let himself be turned into a monster, a demon. Oh but it wasn't without regret, for he felt much regret. He longed for the light, for heaven, for all that is good and bright. He loved and feared Castiel; he served his master like a dog, like the used animal he was. His soul bled in agony as he murdered his brothers, as he slunk from shadow to shadow.

And so this tragic tale continues and the plot thickens as two brothers find each other upon the battlefield. Famulus sliced through the chest of an angel with his right hand, spinning to grab a soldier by the arm and swing him to the ground where he smoothly thrust the blade into his heart before spinning again to kick away an opponent and arc his sword dramatically over his head to shove in-between his shoulder blade and throat.

His armor was bloodstained and scarlet spattered up his arms and across his face. He spun again and raised his sword with a cry but froze in shock. The looming figure of his closest brother stood before him. Long brunette hair falling over his golden circlet, white robes drenched in blood. The pair had been closer than most, both had been created by God together and had never separated, a blood bond had formed as they connected as comrades at arms and blood brothers in the human sense.

"Sam…"

Samandriel gazed at Famulus with a deep aching sadness for a moment before turning and disappearing into the sea of writhing, clashing angels.

Famulus's heart ached with shame and regrets you or I could never possibly imagine a level of despair and hopelessness none other could even comprehend. Oh Famulus had loved Castiel; he had loved him more than any person had loved anyone in the world. But love can disappear, can change and grow and form into something different no matter how great the love before. And as the human saying goes, there is a very fine line between love and hate and that line had been broken, stomped on, and shattered by Castiel.

And God how Famulus hated him; hated him with the very core of his being, with everything in him and that ever was and could be. That love so freely given in a flow of never-ending abundance, Castiel had used it, twisted it and felt nothing. Famulus had given up everything for him, thrown his salvation and Grace away, damned his soul to hell for him, and he resented him for it, hated him for it.

The battle between the two armies would continue for ages and ages in the human world. In the time that the Pearly Gates were charged and Famulus would face the archangel Gabriel centuries had passed in the mortal world. Rome rose amongst the ashes of the world and fell; empires were conquered and lost only to be found again.

A sea of soldiers; swords clashing, wings thrashing, bodies grappling and teeth gnashing, when Famulus turned from a fallen foe to face the great Archangel Gabriel. Amber eyes regarded his fallen brother revealing nothing. Gabriel raised his sword while thunder rumbled. Famulus's eyes clouded.

"You do not stand a chance against my two swords brother."

"Maybe not, but you are no archangel."

A battle to rival that of any other would commence. An archangel and the fallen with the power of two; lightning crackled across the skies as swords clashed and bodies rolled. Famulus twisted and spun as Gabriel's blade flashed the speed of light to counter his attacks. But one blade is no match for two. Famulus gained the upper hand and thrust Gabriel to the ground as his sword clattered away. Gabriel gazed up to see his face gone pale.

Famulus gazed down at his right clenched fist around the hilt of his blade before glancing to his left and slowing lowering his eyes to meet Gabriel's. Emerald eyes swam with tears as they glistened with the light of a setting sun.

"I won't do it."

Gabriel tilted his head. "You have killed before, why is now any different?"

Famulus bared his teeth in an agonized cry as tears streamed down his face.

"I murdered two of my brothers…I won't…I won't do it again!"

Gabriel gazed in confusion at Famulus's shaking form. He dropped his swords as if they burned of Holy fire and jerked his hands to the obsidian crown on his head. His body doubled over as he clutched at his head and wailed.

"You can't make me! I won't do it! No, NO!"

Gabriel slowly drew to his feet and gazed in wonder as Famulus sank to his knees weeping and clawing at the crown on his head.

"Master no, get out, get out I tell you!"

"Famulus?"

His eyes flew open with a gasp as they glowed molten gold.

Gabriel sank to his knees in front of his brother to clutch his shoulders.

"That isn't your name, too long have you been called that, and too long have we forgotten you. Fight him, fight him Dean."

Dean shuddered and bent over further to claw at his crown while he moaned.

"My name, my name." He sobbed out; the cry that only comes from the combined emotions of indescribable sorrow of something lost or forgotten and the gut wrenching happiness of finding and remembering it again.

"Come back brother, you're forgiven, _Dean _come back."

His eyes flew open to reveal clear, piercing green as he screamed and ripped the crown from his head. He sat for a moment shaking uncontrollably before raising anguished eyes to meet rejoicing ones. Gabriel gave him a blinding smile as he handed the perished archangel's sword to Dean.

"Welcome back brother."

Dean grabbed the blade as a golden orb of light exploded across the battlefield. Gabriel and every angel nearby were thrown backwards as the blinding white light of Grace enveloped the skies. When the light faded Gabriel rushed to the unconscious form of his brother. His body was sprawled out, sword abandoned by his side, and two pure silver white wings lay spread across the ground the length of at least 50 feet. The remnants of free grace gathered above Dean's head to float in a soft flowing white ring of light, a halo, the first any angel had had since the right hand of God had fallen.

Gabriel fell to his knees in a bow, God had chosen a new leader of the archangels, the right hand of God, behold The Evening Star.

~oOo~

In front of the pearly gates Castiel held Michael to the ground with a sword to his throat. Michael held perfectly still with cool eyes while Castiel smirked.

"This is goodbye brother, say hello to father for me."

Just as the sword began to press firmly against flesh a brilliant white light flashed through the sky. Angels fell from their midair battles and lightning crackled amongst the clouds.

Castiel froze in shock as Michael's face drew on a look of wonder.

"Behold, the Lord GOD will come with strong _hand_, and his arm shall rule for him: behold, his reward _is_ with him, and his work before him."

Castiel hissed as he drew away."I won't forget his treachery, love bindeth and he will never break free of that hold."

"Love bindeth brother, but you kill love, you chase away the light and goodness, love does not grow in darkness and evil. He loved you, we all loved you, our father loved you and you destroyed that love. Nothing is bound to you but your own hatred and empty soul."

"This isn't over; let that filth know I'll be back for him. Tell Famulus I'll be back."

~oOo~

**And there we have it folks! This was intended to be quite a bit longer but I decided to cut it in half and see what you guys thought of the first part. I'll be writing up a sequel and posting it as a separate story if you guys like this. Man it feels weird to write something t rated! Be proud of me this is my first story without sex in it!**

**Michael quoted Isaiah 40:10. I realize the mythology is really mixed between the show and actual Christian beliefs, sorry if it's confusing or things are mixed up. I tried doing a bit of research on the hierarchy of angels and that stuff is confusing!**

**I pulled quite a bit of inspiration from different things. The initial relationship from the beginning I got the feel from the Silmarillion between Morgoth and Sauron. Dean's reaction to Gabriel using his name I got the feel from Gollum in LOTR when he had forgotten his name.**

**My mental image for the angel's clothes is from NaSyu from Deviantart, go check her out because she if FANOMINAL! She does the best paintings of Dan/Cas in the world 3**

**Please review and tell me what you thought! Let me know if you have any question, this is beta'd by me which means it's crawling with lots of lovely mistakes and typos, and if you have any awesomely brilliant ideas for the sequel just drop them by me **

**Oh and the title of the story is a song for Diablo 3, look it up, awesome music **


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